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Two by Day, Three by Night Page 2
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“Employee? Marcas works for no man, child. He works only for his country and his pleasures. Please, do not allow his abruptness to disturb you, sweetling. He’s a man fighting with his own darkness. He is having a… particularly difficult evening.”
“I’m not concerned for him right now, Sebastian. I’m here for you. Please tell me how I can help you,” Courtney asked, touched by the gentleness in the man’s pain-filled smile. A fire across the room sizzled and sent flickers of light over the old face, his wrinkles bringing a sweet sense of character. She felt sadness settle in her heart. Like so many of her patients, she would have loved to know him when he had been strong and healthy. If only I could heal them instead of help them to die, she lamented.
“He is too weak to talk. Sebastian? How are you, my friend?” The lights blinked off as Marcas’ tender, soft tone announced his presence, catching Courtney by surprise. His voice was warm and soothing, like melted caramel. It was beautiful to hear. “He has much pain here. Please? Can you help him?” He pointed to his stomach, his brow furrowed deeply with concern. Courtney looked up into the man’s face, able to clearly see his magnificent features by fire light. She felt instant gratitude to be sitting because she was unsure of her legs ability to hold her at that moment. Her heart once again began to beat wildly in her chest as she resisted the desire to smooth away his pained expression with her hand, and kiss the tiny grimace between his dark eyebrows. Never before had she experienced such carnal attraction to any man. It was disconcerting, to say the least, and left her with an uncanny sense of powerlessness over her own feelings and emotions. He was, by far, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome… And sinister, she added, thinking of his greeting in the unlit hallways.
Great, the nurse thought, just my luck to be dealing with a Hollywood hot multiple personality disorder case. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to deal with a psychological situation but, then, she had never before actually swooned in the presence of any prior clients or their families. Courtney took a deep breath, trusting her instincts and sensed no personal danger, except for her raging libido. She planted a serious expression on her face and looked at him straight in the eye.
“Would you please tell me his history. I have very little to go on.”
Marcas slowly shared that they had been traveling abroad for five years and that the old man did not suffer any significant problems until they arrived in the United States. He had complained of chest pain at first which rapidly spread to his stomach. The younger man looked tormented as he gently stroked Sebastian’s arm and spoke soothingly to him in his native language, occasionally shielding his eyes from the fire. Courtney felt her anger diminish at Marcas’ prior rudeness.
“I’ll do whatever I can to make him comfortable, Marcas. That is all I can do.”
“I don’t want him left alone. I… I can’t be with him always.”
“I could arrange staff to come here,” she stated a second time.
“No, no others. We don’t like many people here. Please understand. Privacy is needed.”
His softness touched her and she nodded, patting his arm. “I will do what I can. My company has authorized me to concentrate on this case alone, so we will work the hours around your availability. Now, let me do my evaluation and get him set up with some meds. Is there anything else I should know?”
“He likes Holy Scripture read to him. I read to him often.”
She noticed a beautifully carved ancient cross over the top of the bed and Romanian bible at his bedside. “I don’t read Romanian, but I’d be happy to read to him in English.”
Marcas nodded and gracefully rose from the chair. He leaned over and kissed the old man on the forehead. “Don’t worry, my friend. We will take your pain; we will bring you peace.”
“Marcas, my boy… I am more worried about yours. Are you certain…?”
“I am certain. I must go now. The light… Miss Wells? Will you please meet me downstairs when you have finished?”
Courtney watched him hasten out of the room. She gently stroked Sebastian’s arm as she began to examine him. He grabbed her hand. “He cannot take much light. He had an accident and his eyes burn. He is very worried for me.”
“I can see that. Let’s focus on you right now, though.”
Courtney sat watching the old man’s face as the morphine and Ativan took effect. His grimaces softened and his body appeared less tense. Concerned with his condition and wanting to help keep him alert, she opened her cell phone to dial the physician on-call to consult. No signal. With a loud sigh, she walked outside of the room, using her cell to light her path as she searched for a signal. Not paying attention, she collided into a large, hard object in front of her.
“Oofff. Oh, excuse me,” she grunted, slowly looking up.
“Why did you leave him? I told you he was not to be alone,” the hard, sharp voice barked.
“I need to make a phone call, and I don’t get reception up there.”
“You are to call me if you must leave the room. He is not to be alone for any amount of time. Can you not follow simple instructions?” Marcas snapped.
“We need to get something straight here, Lurch. I am here to care for him the best way I can. I am not here to deal with your rudeness or your attitude. If you want anything from me,” she poked him hard in the chest as she glared up at him, “you will ask politely. I am not your slave, got it?”
“Lurch? My name is Marcas,” he said without amusement.
She could not see the appreciative gleam in Marcas’ eyes as he gazed down upon her, studying the angry features of the beautiful blonde’s face as she stared unflinching up at him with the biggest, darkest blue eyes he had ever seen. He felt his cock twitch with excitement, imagining her feistiness in the bedroom and the squirming of her luscious white bottom as it lay over his lap to be punished. He would love to tame this one.
“Good Lord… you’re not from around here. Go watch the Addams Family and you’ll get it. In the meantime, I need a phone.”
Marcas led her down into the basement and pointed to an antique phone perched on a table lamp next to a luxurious red-velvet divan. Courtney sunk into the cushions, immediately noticing the quality of the piece as it cradled her body and eased her tension. She turned the lamp on and peered over the phone as she dialed, trying to avert her eyes from the large and looming outline of the man in the doorway. To her relief, he left quickly, unable to tolerate the brightness of the light. When she hung up, she took the time to glance around the room. It was speckled with antiques, each pristinely kept and glorious to behold. Closer investigation, however, showed her that each piece held a common bond.
Her eyes turned to look at the pictures on the walls, each displaying the curvaceous splendor of a woman’s buttocks. And then there was a canister… exquisite in its beauty and details. She wanted to touch it, to run her hands over each depiction, to imagine herself the recipient of the discipline being offered. The need to touch this piece was almost as strong as the need to touch Marcas.
Courtney shook her head to clear the images of herself submitting to such irrational treatment. She was not easily spooked, and was determined not to allow the creepy dark house, a collection of antique fetish art, or an intimidating giant of a man who looked and sounded like a B-movie Count Dracula to fire her imagination. She had to trust her instincts about her safety and, truth be told, she was intrigued by the collection. There was something about it, like him, that made her want to kneel and submit, to explore and to devour, to release all sense of control and responsibility. She struggled with those feelings… they were so opposite of everything she had strenuously labored to become.
Courtney carefully picked her way back up the steps to Sebastian’s room to find Marcas sitting in the shadows, holding the man’s hand and gently reading out of the old, well-loved bible. He looked up at her with concern.
“He’s hardly talking. Is he alright?” he asked gently.
“He’s sedated.
How in the world can you read in this light?” she took the bible gently away from him and sat down across from the tall man. “Ok, what is with you? Are you on medications for a schizophrenic disorder? Because you are not the same person who was harassing me a minute ago. I want some answers, mister.”
Marcas laughed gently, reaching for her hand and tenderly squeezing it. She felt shocks travel her body with his touch and slowly pulled away. “No, I am very complex. You don’t need to worry, just don’t be afraid. I promise I will not hurt you.”
“I am not afraid. You really need to see someone…”
“I only need to care for him. What is that?”
“A morphine pump. I’m going to start him on a low dose and see if we can get that pain under control and still keep him awake long enough to interact with you. Will you turn on the lights, please?”
He complied and was, once again, gone. With a shake of her head, she set up the pump and carefully inserted the tiny IV needle just under the skin. On impulse, she rose and switched off the lights before sitting back to patient wait for Sebastian’s response. She wondered which attitude Marcas was going to present to her during his next visit, and just how far he carried his particular interest in art into his lifestyle.
Chapter Two
Courtney fought back sleep as she sat in the large, soft chair with her only light coming from the dying fire. A noise startled her and she watched as Marcas’ towering figure added an armful of wood and then stoked the flames to a glowing roar.
“Are you cold?” he asked softly, covering his friend with another blanket.
“A little. He seems to be stable right now. I’ll be back tomorrow evening to check on him. Here’s my number…”
“No, please. Stay here. I have a room ready for you,” Marcas said, walking across the floor and reaching for her hand.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate. I mean…”
“It will be easier for you, and for him. Do you have children or responsibilities to go home to?”
“Uh, no. I rent a room when I travel. I… oh my, this is lovely.” Courtney said as he led her into the room across the hall. “Excuse me… but is that my suitcase?”
“Yes, we had all your things moved here to make it easier for you. I put your medications in the ice box in the bathroom and there is a tray of fruit, cheese and crackers waiting for you by the bed. You must preserve your health,” he said decisively. “I will stay with him while you sleep.” Marcas draped a warm, cashmere throw around her shoulders before she had a chance to sputter out her protests.
“I will help care for you, too. Please, you sleep now. It is after 4 in the morning and the sun will be up soon. Goodnight.” He hesitated, staring at her soft, rosy mouth as it hung open in shocked disbelief. He wanted to kiss that mouth, to pull it gently against his own and taste her sweetness. She was beautiful, especially in the feint flickering amber colored lights that occupied the high corners of the room. Her gleaming gold hair shimmered as he gently touched it, her wide blue eyes doe-like in the shadows. With a controlled sigh, he stroked her face and left.
Courtney stared after the man, disbelieving he had the audacity to assume she would just move in with strangers and be a full-time caregiver. She was also deeply touched by his concern for her health and that he had provided means for her to be cared for. That in itself was a new experience. She could not recall anyone, other than her parents, ever caring for her needs. It made her uncomfortable, the thought of receiving anything from anyone, especially a stranger. She wondered if that was how her clients felt about her.
Courtney stood frozen in place as though she had been hypnotized by his beautiful silver eyes and tender caress. Several minutes later, after recovering from the shock of his announcement, she tossed the throw on the bed and stomped out after him. She followed the sound of voices to the office downstairs, carefully picking her way to avoid tripping in the dark. Banging on the door, she waited.
“Yes? What do you want?” Marcas demanded, his face barely visible.
“I am NOT going to be kept here against my will. If you think…”
“Go to bed, now. I will not argue with you. It is late and you need to sleep.”
His commanding tone took her off guard. Summoning up her voracity, she poked him hard in the stomach once again. “You are not the boss of me, mister. I made it clear you are to treat me with respect and ask if you wanted anything. I will not tolerate being treated in this manner, by you or anyone else. Where is your friend? I think we need a witness to this discussion.”
“My friend is upstairs asleep. Where you must be.”
“I heard you talking to someone. Now, if you think…PUT ME DOWN!” Courtney yelled as she was suddenly swept off her feet and flung over the hard shoulders of the tall Romanian. She pounded his back, yelping as he sharply slapped her ass and then held his hand with strong familiarity on the fleshy part of her rump. He held her firmly in place as he stomped towards the stairs.
“Be silent! You are not to wake Sebastian!” he ordered gruffly, opening the bedroom door and depositing her on the high, four-poster canopy bed, piled with hand-quilted pillows and neck rolls. He stuck a finger in her face, disregarding the fact she could barely see it.
“You are here to care for Sebastian and will stay until your contract is over. You are to take care of your health and not leave these grounds without telling me. I warn you that you will find yourself one very sorry young woman if you disregard my orders. I will not hesitate to warm your backside for any disobedience.”
“Are you threatening me? How dare you! And I don’t have a contract! I… oh, that bitch…” Courtney growled, avoiding rubbing the stinging portion of her backside where his hand had abruptly landed. She suddenly realized that Sue had her sign a ‘privacy’ agreement that she foolishly had been too tired to read.
“Sebastian is a Man of God, you will not curse in his home. Now sleep, or you will find yourself placed over my knee and treated to a very sound chastisement.”
With that, he turned and left, his broad shoulders easing through the doorway before firmly latching the door behind him. Courtney glared at the closed door, anger welling inside of her. Oh, Sue was going to hear about this! She was nothing but a hostage and needed to plan her escape. Anger burned through her but, at the same moment, a quiver of excitement. He spanked her! Like a bratty child! Yet, his large, warm hand that had supported her bottom as she was flung over that muscular, flat shoulder felt… protective? Courtney moaned, confused, still angry and frustrated with her lack of control. This man was getting under her skin and she did not invite him there.
Several minutes passed and Courtney had not budged, still lost in thought and her backside still tingling from the swat. A loud groan across the hall suddenly interrupted her unhappy musings and she scurried out of her room and to Sebastian’s side.
“It’s me, Sebastian. Are you in pain?”
“Yes… Marcas… please…” Sebastian moaned. Courtney hit the bolus button on the pump to give him an extra dose of morphine and then went to search for the infuriating man.
“Marcas! Sebastian wants you!” she yelled down the stairs, ignoring the protocol of maintaining a quiet, calm environment.
“Is he ok?” Marcas softly asked her from behind, making her jump.
“Don’t sneak up on me! He asked for you. I just gave him a little extra medication. He can have that every fifteen minutes if he needs it. Just press the white button on the pump. It’s called a bolus treatment.”
“Ok, thank you. Please, will you try to get some sleep? I’ll come get you if I need anything. Is your room to your liking? I know gold and brown is your favorite combination.”
“How…oh, never mind. Goodnight,” Courtney said, slamming the bedroom door and locking it behind her. She reached for her keys and discovered them gone! How stupid could I be? I never take them out of my pocket. Damnit, I really am stuck here – at least until Lurch goes to sleep. And then, I don’t care what ki
nd of diplomatic immunity these people get, I’m filing charges for kidnapping!!!
* * *
“My son, you must be careful with her,” Sebastian urged, holding the hands of both men on either side of his bed. “Once I’m gone, she will be the one to keep you together.”
“She is opinionated and arrogant, Brother Sebastian. An intolerable wench who needs to be seriously disciplined,” Marcas argued. “She is already challenging my authority!”
“She isn’t accustomed to our ways. She is also sweet, loving, and genuinely concerned for others. A pure delight and one who should be praised and cared for. In addition, she is very beautiful,” Marcas retorted. “I’m surprised you aren’t lusting after her.”
“I didn’t say I was not. But first, she must learn respect and…”
“She is like you, but without the separation,” Sebastian interrupted. “She struggles as you do. You must remember that the only way to prevent the Curse from destroying you is to form a common bond. You,” he looked at one half, “must use your strength and spontaneous nature to bring out her passion and hidden desires. And you… she needs your gentleness and wisdom to keep her soft, loving, and focused. When you came to the Brotherhood that day, you thought yourself strong and independent, but you were merely lost and afraid. You need this woman to survive as much as you need one another. She is the one to draw you together. You must trust me.”
“I’m afraid you are going to alarm her,” Marcas said to his brash half, who frowned. “She is not accustomed to rudeness or lack of civility. And have you already threatened to punish her?”
“She will become used to it. She can’t be coddled all the time. Plus, she desires it. Even you can sense that; she craves discipline.”
“No arguing with yourself. Find balance. Your impulsive nature is not evil, nor is your prudent side permissive. You must completely accept one another if this curse is to be broken. I’m very tired. Please. Allow me sleep and consider my words.”